One Tree Hill
by Eclipsed Planet
Summary: Who hasn't ever written on their desk at school? But did you ever get a reply? Draco/Ginny - based on a real life experience of mine. Please read! An exhausted Draco and a starved-for-friendship Ginny...
1. Turn away to face the cold

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**One Tree Hill – 01 – Turn away to face the cold**

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_The day begs the night for mercy, love._

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Ginny Weasley tapped her fingers on her desk, waiting to be dismissed by Professor Snape.  Potions class, the last of lesson of the day, always seemed to drag on.  She sighed impatiently, careful to keep it under breath.  Her quill in hand, she doodled on the table – **_Hi – _in a fancy script.  She smiled.  Hermione was teaching her calligraphy to help improve her handwriting.**

            Finally, many long minutes later, the Potions Master relented his lecture and dismissed them, masking his frustration as annoyance, covering his forehead with his hand.  She was surprised by this unintentional show of weakness.  She swiped at the ink on the table, but it didn't come off.  A little sneakily, she packed away her things and made for the door.  On the dark wood table that was already littered with scorch marks and potion stains, she figured her small scribble was hardly worth a second glance.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Draco Malfoy gave a large, unabashed yawn.  Professor Snape knew better than to be insulted.  He knew why Draco was so tired.  He knew where Draco had been the night before, until the wee hours of the morning.  But he didn't know why that boy couldn't be more obvious.  He'd been with Draco.  And was just as tired.  The Professor turned his back to the class, struggling to stifle his own yawn.

            Draco wanted to put his head down, get a much-needed nap.  He glanced at the table in front of him, scattered with marks he'd made over the years.  And one mark he didn't truly recognize.  He forced his sleepy eyes to focus.  **_Hi_, it said.  In a squirrelly, loopy lettering.  He sneered, wondering who would dare to purposely deface Hogwarts property in Professor Snape's dungeon classroom.  It was quite obviously a girl, he could tell from the handwriting.**

            Intending to take notes on the Potions Master's lecture, he pulled out his quill and ink.  Flattening his parchment, he made to write down the necessary ingredients for today's potion, but his eyes flickered to the tiny greeting scrawled on his desk.  On his desk!

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Ginny dropped her cauldron onto her desk, unceremoniously, quickly taking her seat.  She was nearly late for Potions, help up in the hallway by a group of Slytherins, Malfoy at the lead.  She snorted, rolling her eyes.  Professor Snape announced the potion they would prepare today, and the class groaned, knowing it required a lot of tedious peeling and dicing.

            Like most students, Ginny took off her robes and sweater, and rolled up the sleeves of her white button-up.  She pulled a pile of the something-something roots toward her.  She checked her notes, flipping a few parchments over…oh yes, Mandrake root.  How could she forget?  Her knife carefully poised on the end of one root, she saw her black-inked script staring up at her.  She cut through the root, cutting away several slices, revealing something in green ink.

            Glancing around, she swiftly pushed aside the roots and read the word carefully written beneath hers – **_Hello_** – as a small smile formed on her face.  She ran her fingers over it, noting that it, too, did not wipe away.  She jumped when she heard Professor Snape barking at her from the front of the classroom.

            "Miss Weasley, those roots will not cut themselves.  Please continue!"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

            Draco rubbed his face, sitting at the Slytherin table for breakfast.  Merlin, it was too bloody early.  Keeping up appearances was hard work.  His red-rimmed eyes dropped as he mechanically spooned porridge in his mouth.  Slowly feeling more awake and revived, he slowly looked around the Great Hall, observing people in their conversations, some people nearly choking down breakfast, just to rush off to class.

            Same thing, day in, day out.  He spotted a cluster of highly recognizable heads at the Gryffindor table, laughing uproariously.  _Merlin, it is too damn early_, he wanted to yell out at them.  At the end of the table, farthest from the loud, obnoxious group was a tiny girl bent over her breakfast.  Porridge.  He looked down at his own bowl, and stirred the thick honey-drenched porridge.

            Shrugging off his friends, he left, pulling his book bag over his shoulder.  Potions first thing in the morning.  Merlin.  Too early.

            He strolled into class, a good ten minutes early, to see a disheveled Potions Master standing at the front of the door, roughly rubbing his face in his hands.

            "Perk up, Severus, today's already Tuesday, eh?"

            The Professor stiffened at the voice, but his smirk showed from under his hands.  He moved to pick up a piece of chalk, revealing his tired eyes, his pale face, and furrowed brow.  He started writing up the ingredients for the potion the seventh-year Slytherins and Gryffindors would prepare.

            Draco sat at his usual desk, sliding into his seat, letting his bag fall to the floor.  He swiped a hand across the familiar wood surface, and again his eyes flickered to the small place where he'd written in green ink.

            The previous markings were still there, this time a few added words as well:

**_Hi_**

****

**_Hello_**

****

**_How are you?_**

****

He smiled a little, his own brow furrowing, as he pulled out his quill and ink, and glanced at the busy Potions Master in the front of the room.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

**.:** Disclaimer **:.**

This story is based on the characters Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, who both belong to J.K. Rowling (as well as all other HP characters and terminology).  The title, and chapter titles, are/will be borrowed from One Tree Hill, by U2.  Please check out the song!

**.:** Author's Notes **:.**

I've made a few tiny changes in this chapter.  Nothing drastic – but as it's a short chapter, may as well read through it again!  I haven't touched this story in ages, so I thought it could do with a bit of a refresher.  Most changes will occur in chapter 4 – the last chapter I had posted.

This will be a rather sad story, based on a true experience from my own life.  I'm not sure what triggered the memory, exactly, but I had just recently remembered an incident from 7th grade – making me way younger than Ginny or Draco, but ah, well.  I wrote on my desk, bored out of my mind in my English class.  The next day, when I was back in class, I found a reply!  I had written "Hi" and the other "Hello" – and from there we started a huge correspondence.  From writing on our desk, careful to clean off earlier messages, I learned that it was a boy named Matt in another period who sat at the very same desk.  The true story has a rather tragic ending, which I still do not fully understand today, otherwise I'd be crying right now.  But I'll try to keep this story lighter, with hopefully a happy ending.   I hope to keep this tale a short and sweet 10 chapters and maybe I'll conclude with a summary of what happened in real-life ages ago, in my own 7th grade year.

Until next time – 

Eclipsed Planet


	2. So bright it leaves no shadows

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**One Tree Hill – 02 – So bright it leaves no shadows**

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Only scars carved into stone… 

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Ginny Weasley found it rather difficult to pay attention to her bubbling potion.  She was staring at the green-inked words on her desk:

            **Better question – Who are you?**

            She debated whether to answer or not.  She wasn't even sure _how_ to answer.  Who was she?

            She would have felt strange putting her name.  It made her feel vulnerable, for some reason.

            "Miss Weasley," a strained, deep voice standing above her made her jump.  "Do you realize that your potion has already burnt?  That's ten points – now start over, and if you aren't finished when class is dismissed, it'll be another ten.  Get to it!"

            She risked a look up into Professor Snape's piercing black eyes.  He looked tired.  And very frustrated.  Angry.

            With wide eyes, she nodded, carefully covering most of her desk by splaying her arms clumsily across it.  When the Potions Master finally stalked away, she stood with her cauldron and walked to the nearest sink.  She scraped out the disgusting purple contents and rinsed it clean, sighing.  What a better way to end a long day?

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Draco Malfoy sneered at the small girl before him.  The indignant look on her face made him even angrier.  She was glaring at him, as if he were wasting her time.  How dare she?

            "Out of my way, Weasley."  He stood his ground, waiting for her to step aside.  Instead, she rolled her eyes, adjusting her hold on her bag.  And when he sneered at her, she shoved past him, mumbling something under her breath.

            He stiffened in anger.  He closed his eyes, trying to collect himself, suppress his fury.  _Not now_, he told himself.

            He stalked down the hall and down several staircases, landing him outside of the potions classroom.  He straightened his robes, knowing full well that he was late, and he walked in the room, without the slightest bit of guilt or regret.  Severus nodded his head to him and turned back to the class with his cold, exhausted eyes.  Draco hated to admit it, but his professor looked hunted.  And Draco feared, _and so must I._

            He sat down carefully, taking his time, making damn well sure that Weasley and Potter were watching his every move.  _That's right, just showed up five minutes late, and not a single consequence._  He smirked, when he noticed Weasley crossed his arms and turned bright red.

            Draco pulled parchment and a quill from his book bag, and looked to the board for potions instructions.  As he scribbled down today's lesson, a tedious one that he figured was 2nd year material, his eyes were distracted by a flush of black ink on his desk.

            He almost smiled, running his finger over the small conversation that was so far scratched on his desk in ink.  He looked at the latest addition, in a dull, black ink:

            **Wouldn't you like to know?**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Ginny laughed aloud when she saw what was written on her desk:

            **It _is_ against school policy to be writing on desk, you are, no doubt, aware?**

            Using the palm of her hand, she tried rubbing out the first few lines of text.  The "**Hi" and "**Hello**" were already nearly faded, from the past few days of the desk's use, but the newer script seemed to gleam boldly.  She glanced up at the Professor, lecturing at the front of the classroom.  If he should see this, it'd be the end of her!**

            Sighing, she traced her dry quill along the letters of the last message, considering what to write back.  She wanted to sound clever, even if she wasn't so witty in her real-life.  It was in circumstances like this one, Ginny figured, that one could be braver than they felt otherwise.  It was nearing the end of class, before she finally took her chance to leave a quick note.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Draco rubbed his face, sitting at the Slytherin table for breakfast.  Oh Merlin, it was too bloody early.  He couldn't continue like this much longer.  He awoke every morning with a piercing headache and a tight feeling in his chest.  His muscles were sore, and usually stayed so until about lunchtime.  And his head felt cloudy all the bloody time.

            Same thing, day in and day out.  He looked over at the Gryffindor table, resenting their jokes and laughs and envying their easy friendships.  Merlin, it just wasn't fair anymore.  He was getting sick of this.  Sick of his life.  He wondered every day how much longer this would go on.

            Neglecting his eggs and potatoes, he let his eyes wander the room.  He stared a few, long moments at the Headmaster, who was gaily eating his porridge, talking animatedly to Professor Sprout.  How does that man do it?  He didn't look so calm or content last night.  No, he'd looked old and defeated.  Draco turned his attention to Severus, who sat stiff before his cup of morning tea.  He looked like a tired, aged statue.  Draco was relieved that Severus looked as haunted as he himself felt.

            He turned his eyes to Potter, who was sitting between his group of friends, each with smiling faces, eating happily, their only concerns were the upcoming exam in Defense Against the Dark Arts and managing to get through Potions class without a disaster.

            But Draco saw it.  The fear.  The fatigue.  The pain.  It was carefully veiled, but it was there, nonetheless.  Potter's weak smile, and his poor attempt to eat his breakfast may have been enough to satisfy his friends, but Draco knew better.  He knew what was happening to Potter.  It was happening to him, too.

            Averting his eyes, just as Potter glanced his way, Draco pushed away his plate.  He glanced once more along the Gryffindor table, his eyes settling on the same little girl, with bright red hair, at the end of the table, nursing her steamy porridge.  She looked so tiny and meek sitting at the table.  Draco growled, thinking back, _then why was she so alive and…and…infuriating the other day in the hallway?_

            He stood, collecting his things, nodding off his friends.  He reminded himself – _who cares?_ – as he stalked off to the Potions classroom.  He was thankful it was empty when he reached it.  He sat back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk.  Draco pulled his hands behind his head, and he tried to let his body relax.

            "Well, Mr. Malfoy, looks like someone's been writing on this desk."

            Draco nearly jumped at the sound of Severus standing right over him.  He dropped his feet to the floor, sitting up straight in his chair, reverting to his gentlemanly upbringing.  He glanced at the desk, half-shrugging, pretending not to care.  His own heart thumped loudly in his chest.  He'd forgotten all about it.  He always forgot that there may be messages for him, until he arrived to class and looked down at the desk.

            "Clean it up.  There's a solvent in that cabinet."  Severus tossed Draco a key.  Draco pretended to sneer at his professor, but he stood and stalked to the cupboard.

            As he scrubbed the desk, he took a quick opportunity to read the latest addition:

            **If that's so, then I suppose we must stop writing.  Shame, almost kept me entertained in class.**

He smiled, wanting to laugh.  True.  He finished scrubbing off the desk, glad to have a freshly cleaned desk.  He put away the solvent and tossed the key back to Severus, who simply smiled at him, cryptically.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO 

**.: **Disclaimer **:.**

This story is based on the characters Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, who are both owned by J.K. Rowling (as well as all other HP characters and terminology).  The title, and chapter titles, are/will be borrowed from One Tree Hill, by U2.  Please check out that song!

**.:** Author's Notes **:.**

There was little editing going on in this chapter, but please read through it, as it's pretty short.

Until next time – 

Eclipsed Planet****


	3. The moon is up and over

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**One Tree Hill – 03 – The moon is up and over**

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See the sun go down in your eyes… 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO Ginny Weasley was confused.  She scratched her head with the end of her wand, one hand still stirring her brewing potion.  Her desk was completely cleaned, and she was glad for it, tired of mysterious sticky spots and crusted-on ingredients.  But there were three words printed near the edge that kept bugging her: Under your chair. Puzzled she glanced around the room, particularly noting where Professor Snape stood.  Dropping her wand on the floor, she leaned over inconspicuously to pick up.  Having ducked under her table, she reached blindly under chair.  She gasped as her fingers brushed over a piece of parchment. 

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Draco Malfoy sat back in the warm chair by the fireplace.  The black leather creaked underneath him as he crossed his legs and pulled his hands up behind his head.  He closed his eyes.  Tonight was going to be a long night.  He grew tired and ill just thinking about it.

            The familiar rumbling of the Common Room door shook him from his trance, and he stood to greet Potter.

            "Malfoy?"  The dark-haired boy whispered, peering about the darkened room.

            "Yes, I'm here, Potter.  Are they ready for us?"  Draco approached him, keeping his own voice low.

            "I think so," he whispered, his hand reaching to flatten the hair down over his scar.

            Draco heaved a sigh and he started for the door, with Potter at his side.  They kept their pace brisk, both of them breathing hard by the time they reached the Headmaster's office.  Inside were gathered a few Professors, along with Black, Lupin and a few others.  Draco nodded to Professor Snape.  Then he and Harry sat down.

            "Good evening, Harry, Draco.  Now, shall we begin?"  The Headmaster looked around the room with his piercing blue eyes, and almost everyone bowed their heads in consent.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Ginny smiled to herself as she confidently ticked off the answers to their "surprise" quiz in potions class.  Most of her fellow students groaned and struggled through the questions.  As her classmates had grumbled as they put away their books, when a particularly foul-mooded Professor handed out the papers, Ginny had simply dipped her quill in the inkwell, totally prepared for what was to come.  And how could that possibly be?

            Because she'd been up the evening before, studying the list she'd found under her chair.  The parchment had been a brief note, and a forewarning of a surprise quiz to come.  She wasn't sure whether to take the note seriously, but noticing the sour look on the Potions Master's face, she decided it wouldn't hurt to review a few things, especially the things that her secret friend had included in the note.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He didn't want to, but for some reason, his hand wandered under his chair and retrieved a small folded piece of parchment that he knew would be there.  He was almost positive he knew what it would say.  He unfolded it, disregarding the curious glance his professor shot in his direction.

            **Thanks for the heads-up.  I probably should have expected something that horrid from the prof – he's been a little off lately, don't you think?  Looking like he needs a holiday, that's for sure.  You enjoy this class?  I mean, aside from our lovely Potions Master?**

He smirked.  A holiday.  He looked up at Professor Snape, who now looked like he wanted nothing more than to bang his head, repeatedly, on the wall behind him.  Draco had to admit, despite the hour being too early, that he really enjoyed his class.  Potions were like a fine art to Professor Snape.  And to Draco, too.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

She easily found the note under her chair, when the Professor had turned his attention to the chalkboard, writing the ingredients for today's potion.  Ginny smiled as she unfolded the piece of paper.

            **Of course I enjoy this class, who doesn't enjoy Potions?  Especially first thing in the morning?**

Ginny paused to think who had Potions first thing in the morning.  Wasn't it Ron?  He was always complaining – she would ask him later.

            **As for our Potions Master needing a holiday, you can't be more right.  And I'd love to join him, if it meant getting away from the tedium of school.  How about you?  Keeping up?  Now that Christmas and New Years have passed, we've got ages to get by until Easter rolls along.  Stop reading this and pay attention to the lesson, you naughty girl.**

Ginny grinned, as she dipped her quill in ink, ready to reply on the back of the small bit of paper.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Draco slid into his seat, over ten minutes late, surprised that he'd even bothered to show up at all.  He hadn't had any sleep last night – and he was running late with breakfast and getting ready.  He looked miserably up at the Professor.

            "Mr. Malfoy – you look horrid.  Get yourself out of my classroom, and if you can manage, to the hospital wing.  Now."  The Professor, looking nearly worse off than Draco turned back to Longbottom and his poorly brewed potion.

            Draco heaved a sigh, and began to stand.  He leaned over to pick up his bag, when something tickled a corner of his memory.  Smoothly, and almost unconsciously, he reached out a hand and grabbed a parchment stuck under his chair.

            He slung his bag over his shoulder and trudged out of the room.  Once in the hallway, he considered where he should head – his dorm room, which would surely be empty, or to the hospital wing.

            The pinch in his arm and the stinging ache in his head forced him to start his long way to the school nurse.

            He opened the note in his hand:

            **School…when will it be over?  I've still over a year to go, this being my sixth year.  I can't bear to think about NEWTS, especially after having to take those dreadful OWLs.  And you?  What year are you?  Easter still seems ages away, but it's a light at the end of our long tunnel, remember.  I, for one, consider every weekend a holiday.  You just have to take the time for yourself, or you'll go insane, you know?**

            Approaching the wing, he tucked the paper inside his pocket.  Oh, he knew.  He knew.

            He threw open the doors, ready to shout for Madame Pomfrey – but instead he found himself face-to-face with a tiny red-haired girl.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO Oh Merlin.  What was he doing here?  But before she could voice her thoughts, he sneered at her. "Weasley?  What are you doing here?  Where's Pomfrey?  Go call her, I have a bloody headache." He shoved past her and plopped himself down on a bed, shoes and all.  Ginny turned to glare at him.  How dare he? 

            "Malfoy, she's not here.  She's gone to London for some important supplies she needed.  I'm watching the Wing for her.  Now what do you need?"

Ginny tried to keep her tone benevolent, but it was rather challenging knowing _who _she was talking to.  Draco Malfoy.  She maintained eye contact, without cowering away or rolling her eyes, while he considered her. 

Finally, he closed his eyes, laying his blond head back on the soft pillow.  He muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Why'd she go and leave you in charge?"  Then opening one eye, he peered at her with a smirk, "She's not paying you, is she, Weasley?  Is that why you're here?"

            Hardly feeling any need to explain herself to Draco Malfoy, Ginny managed to just raise an eyebrow at him.  "I'm in her advanced Healing class.  Do you want help or not?"  She crossed her arms across her chest.

            "Forget it, I knew I should have just gone back to my room."

            He pulled himself to his feet with a bit of trouble.  Ginny could tell what he needed most was uninterrupted rest.  Maybe a potion to help calm him.  Keeping her voice gentle, she urged him back to the bed.

            "Alright, Draco, back in the bed.  You need some rest.  I'll get you some robes and a sleeping draught."  He sneered at her and made to stand again.  She pushed him back down, her hand pressing firmly on his shoulder.

            "I said, back in bed.  Stay here."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Draco rubbed his face, sitting at the Slytherin table at breakfast.  Oh Merlin, it was too damn early.  His head throbbed.  It'd been a few nights since he'd had any good rest.  The last sleep he had was in the Hospital Wing, where he refused to back to, whether or not Madame Pomfrey was back.

            He threw a look over at the Gryffindor table, seeking out a mass of red curls.  He swallowed and looked down to his food.

            Draco had seen many things in his short life.  Many frightening, dangerous things.  Yet nothing scared him as much as the feeling he got when he looked at that tiny girl.  His head spun thinking back to the tender way she treated him in the Hospital Wing.  She was able to change her surly tone to a calming gentle one in the blink of an eye.

            _A mystery, that one_.  He ate slowly, wanting to be with his classmates when he walked to Potions class today.  He didn't feel like being alone.  He glanced back at Weasley, who was blowing to cool her porridge.  He was too scared to be left alone.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Ginny jogged quickly to the Hospital Wing.  During breakfast, she received a school owl asking her to see Madame Pomfrey before class.  She opened the door and called out to the nurse.

            "Yes, Ginny, I'm over here."

            She found Madame Pomfrey arranging things in a cupboard in the back of the room.  She smiled over her shoulder at Ginny.

            "Thanks for coming, Ginny.  There was a pile of things over by that bed" – she gestured to the bed that Draco had slept in – "and I hoped you'd know who had used that bed last?"

            Ginny licked her lips and nodded.  She walked over to the pile, picking up a silver pocketwatch and a few scraps of paper.

            "It was Draco Malfoy, I think."

            "Would you be a dear and take him his things?  Also take this sleeping draught, and ask him to use it tonight after his meeting.  He'll know what I'm talking about."

            Ginny swallowed, almost too afraid to answer Madame Pomfrey.  She nodded and adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she started out in the hall.

            She looked down at the silver watch, noticing the fine details and the delicately engraved initials – _DM.  _She shuffled around the few scrap papers, accidentally dropping one on the floor.  She knelt to pick it up.

            Ginny froze.  She immediately recognized that scrap of paper.  And the two distinct handwritings.  The green and black ink.  Oh Merlin.

            _How did he get this? _She asked herself, as she picked up the parchment, rereading the lines.  Knowing him, he probably stole this from his classmate, who sits at my desk.  That jerk.

            "Weasley, what are you doing with that?"

            She gasped as she looked up.  Draco was standing only a few feet away, an angry expression on his face.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

That was his watch.  What was she doing with that?  Where had she gotten it?  He stepped forward to snatch it from her hand.  As he did so, she dropped a small bunch of scrap papers she was also holding.  He groaned at her clumsiness.  Being a gentleman, he bent to pick them up.  But being a Malfoy, he snuck a peak at one of them.

            **Slytherin Quidditch Practice Times – this week…**

            He frowned.  That was his handwriting – and his team's practice schedule.  What was going on?  He looked at another piece.

            **Defense Against the Dark Arts – chapter 24 and 25 for homework…**

            Also his.  He looked at the Weasley.  What was she doing?  She looked upset, and he hated to admit it but that fierce look in her eyes tore into him.  Her fingers were poised as if still holding the watch and papers.  Her mouth was partly open, as if stuck mid-word.  

            "Weasley, these are my things, where'd you find these?"

            Her only response was the widening of her eyes.  She clamped her mouth shut and blinked several times.  The angry look in her eyes slowly softened until she only looked puzzled.

            "Er…I…well, they were in the Hospital Wing – where you must have left them," she paused, licking her lips.  "Er…Draco, where did you get that?"

            Draco looked down at the final scrap of paper.

            **Thanks for the heads-up…**

Oh Merlin.  The green and black ink.  He looked back at her shocked face and was able to put two and two together.  It easily made four.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

**.: **Disclaimer **:.**

This story is based on the characters Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, who are both owned by J.K. Rowling (as well as all other HP characters and terminology).  The title, and chapter titles, are/will be borrowed from One Tree Hill, by U2.  Please check out that song!

**.:** Author's Notes **:.**

There was little editing in this chapter, but go on and read it.

Until next time – 

Eclipsed Planet


	4. A heart of darkness

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

**One Tree Hill – 04 – A heart of darkness__**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

_Where poets speak their heart then bleed for it_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

            Damn!  Damn!  Damn!!  Ginny ran all the way to her first class, more than aware that she was almost 5 minutes late.  She blinked an unspoken apology to Professor McGonagall as she walked into the classroom, still breathing hard.  She plopped down in her seat, feeling a little shaky.

            Ooh, her blood was boiling.  She knew that if she weren't so suddenly surprised and confused that she'd be in a rage right now, fit to scream and throw things.  But no.  

First off, she needed to concentrate on the hedgehog in front of her – and try to turn it to a pin cushion.

And secondly, her mind was too preoccupied trying to figure out why Draco Malfoy would be writing on desks, or leaving notes for girls under deskchairs.

            As class proceeded, and several hedgehogs later, when she was able to perform the transfiguration completely, her anger started to cool… leaving a lingering confusion.

            She could not stop her heart from racing.  She couldn't stop thinking about him.  Couldn't stop thinking about the things she'd written… about Easter… about vacations… about nothing… and everything.

She could not help but think of what may be waiting for her under her chair in her final class.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

            He didn't know how he got to class, but somehow he had managed it.  He'd wandered down to the potions classroom, in a mild daze.

The door to the dungeon classroom creaked when he open it and slammed shut behind him.

            The thoroughly confused and pained look on Draco's face started Professor Snape.  He stopped speaking immediately and turned his attention to Draco, trying to read the look, trying to read any secret signs.  Even Harry Potter's annoyance also quickly faded to worry.  He half-stood from his seat, ready to jump into action, were anything seriously wrong.

            Draco cleared his throat, shook his head, and raised his hand, waving off their misguided concerns.  

They each nearly sighed aloud with relief, Potter sitting back down in his seat.

The rest of the class watched this with great interest.

            Draco cleared his throat again, and sat in his seat, pulling his cauldron onto his desk.

            "What nonsense are we brewing today, eh?"

            "Five points, Mr. Malfoy."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

            Ginny entered the class, butterflies floating in her stomach.  She had nothing to worry about really.  _Just don't bother checking under the chair, because nothing will be there._  She knew it.

            Taking her seat, she squirmed a bit, sitting on her hands.  Today's potion was already on the board, and Professor Snape seemed to be in a particularly foul mood.  

            She swallowed, carefully looking around the room at her classmates.

            The Professor stood and announced for the class to begin their potions.  He slid along the aisles, sharply pointing out people's errors with a reprimand and the loss of a few points.

            Ginny went about making her potion, using all of her strength to ignore any writing that might be on her desk, and refrain from bending over and getting any notes from under her chair.  Staring into space, she poised a bottle over the cauldron, waiting for the right time to pour the ingredient in.

            A booming voice in her ear made her scatter newt eyes all over.

            "Miss Weasley, you mustn't hold anything over a cauldron!  The smoke and steam will ruin the ingredient before it can be used!  Five points for your carelessness.  Five points for ruining the eyes.  And another five points for spilling them everywhere!  Now clean it up!"

            Colin, who was at the workplace next to her, shoved a bottle of newt eyes toward her, and she quickly added them in and stirred.  Thanking him silently, she dropped to her hands and knees, trying to pick up all the rolling eyes.

            Fifteen points, in one go.  Not bad, she thought.  Not bad, considering she hadn't really done anything…

            She froze.  Her hand loosened, spilling the eyes she'd already collected.  Her heart thudded heavily in her chest.

From her vantage point on her knees, she saw a folded piece of parchment slipped neatly under her chair.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

He groaned.  He covered his blushing face with his hands.  He leaned forward and banged his head as hard as he could on the desk in front of him.

            Good Lord.  What had he been thinking?  

            Rubbing his face hard, he pulled away his hands slowly.  The thumping pain on his forehead took away some of the shame, but not much.  He refrained from bashing his head again.

            He wasn't exactly sure what made him write the girl another note, leaving it under their chair.  More than anything, he wanted to test her, see if she'd look for the note.  And if she did, she'd come here.

A furtive glance around him told him that the library was still empty.  He glanced at his pocketwatch.  It was still early, dinner just ended.  Only 7:45.  The sun had already set, the library darkly lit with candles and torches.  And he knew that he'd have to leave by 9:00.  He'd have to be in Dumbledore's office by then.

            He frowned at the open potions book in front of him.

            It had only been this morning when he ran across the Weasley.  She had his pocketwatch.  He caressed the heirloom with his thumb.  He'd wondered where he had left it for the past few days.

            She had his note.  Her note.  Oh dear Merlin.

            He ran his hand through his hair, thoroughly mussing it up.

            The clank of the library door shutting got his attention.  He stood up.  He saw her.

            She stood there, apprehensively looking around the empty library.  She glanced at her own wristwatch, seemingly aware she was early.     

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

She bit her lip, taking tentative steps toward the northwest corner of the library, where the note asked her to come, carefully avoiding looking that way.  Instead she scoped out the rest of the library, noting that Madam Pomfrey was missing-in-action.  Who would save her if she screamed for help?

            She smiled to herself, thinking she could manage Draco Malfoy.  At least she thought she could.  She shook her head.

            "Weasley."

            Looking to her left, she saw Draco, standing in front of a desk.  He wasn't wearing his school robes, only his gray uniform slacks and white button-up shirt.  She swallowed.  She'd decided to dress down, wearing her jeans and a tee-shirt and a sweater.  But she noticed he had no comment about it.  Nor about her wild red hair, which she'd let loose from its usual tight braid.

            "Don't call me that."

            She watched him consider that.  He stood there, not willing to say anything more.  Well, this will be quick, she thought.

            "I guess you found the note."

            "Obviously."

            "And you decided to come."

            She raised her eyebrows at him.

            "Why?" he asked.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

            Her mouth opened, and then closed.

            "How are you feeling, Draco?"

            She caught him offguard.

            "What?"

            "Been sleeping well?"

            He frowned.  What was she on about?

            "Yes…I suppose."

            "Then what did you want?"

            He shrugged at her, sitting back in his seat.  He invited her to join him, but she just stood there staring.

            "Sit, Weasley."

            "Why did you ask me here?"

            "Sit, please."

            "I mean, you know we never got along before…and you know my brother and his friends hate you.  And I do mean, hate…"

            "Sit down…"

            "I never really thought that I'd ever have to talk to you, considering the things you say about me and my family…"

            He stood up, towering over her.

            "Miss Weasley, will you please sit down!"

            He raised his voice, wincing at the look on her face.  She sat.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

            "I – I'm sorry."

            He apologized as he sat down.  She glared at him from her seat across from him.  Ginny folded her arms across her chest and observed him from the corner of her eye.

            He seemed rather disheveled.  His hair was rather messed up and his eyes were tired and red.  His posture spoke nothing of the self-absorbed elitist that he was.  And his mouth seemed too tired to form that oh-so-loved smirk of his.

            "I asked you here for a reason, Weasley."

            "Don't call me that."

            "Then what shall I call you?"

            She thought a moment.  She shuddered at the thought of him calling her Ginny.  And she would not let him call her Virginia.  But it was so grating to hear him call her Weasley.

            "Nevermind, what's this all about?"

            He looked at her carefully.

            "Bloody hell, I need some help.  I need help, Weasley."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

            He felt embarrassed.  He thought the whole world was staring at him.  He knew he was blushing.  But hopefully, if he kept a straight face, nobody would think twice about it.  The spooned his porridge into his mouth.  He felt a little better this morning than he did most mornings.  His eyes didn't burn.  And his head wasn't aching.

            Of course, there had been a meeting last night.  But…it had been different.  Felt different.

He sneaked a glance over at Potter.  He was slouched before his breakfast, half-heartedly engaged in a conversation with Weasley.  Wrong Weasley.

            He quickly glanced away.  Alright, he'd certainly have to find something different to call the – the younger Weasley – the girl.  Otherwise, he'd get that strange feeling whenever he looked at her brother.  Weasley.

            Oh dear.

            He was getting weak.  He needed to quit being so damn weak.  Why couldn't he help it?  Why couldn't he control himself?

            Was it because he was so sleepy?  Was it because he was so exhausted?  Was it because he was so emotionally drained?

            It didn't matter why, he figured, he'd just have to stop.  Stop being weak.

            He saw the young Weasley girl enter the Great Hall.  Everything seemed to slow down…

            She walked in, her head held high, walking straight to the Gryffindor table, careful to take a seat alone, or as alone as she could get.  Her red hair was still free, loose curls around her face.  Her face was flushed… her eyes nervously glanced about… her full lips.

He closed his eyes, accidentally dropping his spoon into his bowl.

            Weak.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

            She saw him staring.  She couldn't help it.  She didn't know what to do, and she certainly wouldn't look back at him.  

She blushed.  She was too embarrassed, thinking about last night.

            Last night.  Wow.  She'd been surprised.  

He'd asked her for help.  She'd nodded dumbly back.  He'd leaned forward across the table, until their noses were pressed and he'd ran his fingers through her hair – sending shivers through her entire body.

            Who was that boy?  That was **_NOT_ Draco Malfoy.  In fact, she hadn't seen the real Draco Malfoy in ages.  Well, the old Draco Malfoy.  Nobody really knew the real Draco Malfoy…**

            She shivered.  Unable to resist, she looked at him.  Saw his hungry eyes were already upon her.  She licked her lips, staring at him.

            Last night.  

It wasn't just the fact that he'd asked her there in the first place.  It wasn't the plea for help.  Not even his trembling fingers in her hair.

            Merlin, it was the kiss.  The unexpected, totally mind-blowing kiss.  It was the kiss.

            She blushed, lowering her head, smiling to herself.  She filled her bowl with her usual porridge and reached for the honey, keeping her eyes on Draco Malfoy the entire time.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO******

**.: Disclaimer ****:.**

This story is based on the characters Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, who are both owned by JK Rowling (as well as all other HP characters and terminology).  The title, and chapter titles, are/will be borrowed from One Tree Hill, by U2.  I seriously suggest you check out that song, as it is a very beautiful piece of work, like most of the songs by U2.

**.: Author's Notes ****:.**

Whew!  Hehe, hope you liked it.  Something I listened to while writing this chapter was Are You Happy Now? by Michelle Branch, though the lyrics don't really matter.  Hehehe.  Anyway – thanks for reading!

Please check out:  **[ www**** . lorddave . com / e) for FanVideos made be me!  If you don't know what those are, please check it out, I think you'll see you'll like it!  You will need a newer version of Windows Media Player to watch them (they are wmv files).   Not sure what to do if you have problems.  The latest codec for Windows Media Player should do the trick.  It's a simple wmv format.**

Thanks!!  Let me know what you think by emailing me or leaving a review on any of my stories, cool?

Hope you enjoyed!  Thanks for reading.  Please be sure to review!

Until next time –

Eclipsed Planet


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